Reflections
by Temptress-Kitten17
Summary: Just something that came to me while I was sleeping last night. Set after "Rose". Don't read if you don't like smut! One-shot, but may be more after I finish "All I Need" if enough people beg me to continue this ;


Author's Note: Okay, so I totally lied at the end notes for Chapter 6 of "All I Need". I can't possibly go that long without writing a lemon; not when this little gem popped into my head last night while I was sleeping! This is set after "Rose" so for anyone who hasn't seen that totally EPIC end-scene of Delena heartache, then you really need to. Oh my god, Ian was _amazing_! Had my hubby not been sitting right next to me I would have cried; it was just so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time…well, I won't spoil it for anyone. Go watch it. Anyway, "Katerina" is on tonight and thanks to it being a holiday here in Canada (and therefore not a school night) I actually get to watch it with the hubby at 8pm like everybody else instead of the usual 10:30 to 11 showing. This means I don't _need_ a distraction, so my writing this one-shot is purely due to my own need to get these images out of my head for my adoring readers to enjoy and has nothing at all to do with my resolve to post stories on Thursdays (b/c I finished Chapter 6 a day early). So please enjoy this special treat for what it is, and make sure to hit that review button. My muse comes out to play more often when she's fed lots of praise ;) And if you haven't figured it out already, this is most definitely a lemon; not that I'd write anything less than that in a one-shot.

Disclaimer: If I owned Vampire Diaries…well, I think it's obvious that we'd be getting a lot of nekkid Damon ;)

Reflections

Elena set the brush down on the bathroom vanity and turned back toward her bedroom, ready to curl up under the covers and confess every confusing thought she'd had over the last few days into her diary. She still had no idea how she'd gotten her necklace back; how she'd come to be standing in the middle of her room in a haze of confusion, her fingers brushing over the cool metal as if it held the answer to a deep secret she couldn't remember. She wished she knew what it was, because something deep inside her heart was telling her that it had been important; and that it would change _everything_. As she stepped into her room her eyes were immediately drawn to her bedroom window and the dark haired man sitting directly in front of it, that annoyingly sexy smirk on his face when he spotted her.

"Cute PJs," he said, winking at her. Elena blushed, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover herself. She hadn't expected anyone to see her like this; she and Stefan were still broken up, after all, and she hadn't run into Damon since he'd rescued her from Elijah. She'd assumed he was off on a bender or something, licking his wounds after Stefan stole the hug that she had meant for _him_. So it was more than a little shocking to find him so casually waiting for her, and a little embarrassing that he'd caught her in a low cut blue silk camisole and matching boy-short panties. He was still admiring her long legs, unable to hide his appreciation for her choice of sleepwear.

"Is this going to be a habit of yours, sneaking into my room at night?" she asked crossly, her arms unintentionally crossing over her chest and pushing up her breasts to show an indecent amount of cleavage.

"Do you want it to be?" he countered, licking his lips seductively. Elena caught the direction of his gaze and immediately searched the floor for a piece of clothing, anything, to cover herself. Finding nothing, she simply lowered her arms. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her in this state of undress before, considering all the times he'd decided to interrupt her and Stefan early in the morning.

"I'm tired, Damon," she sighed. The words sent off an echo through her mind; _"I'm tired, Damon." "I brought you this."Her necklace flashed in his nimble fingers like a beacon._ Elena shook her head, the images fading again. She caught sight of her reflection in the full length mirror as she turned away from him and those penetrating eyes of his that seemed to see straight into her soul. She saw the quick rises and falls of her chest, the flushed skin, and his own form suddenly appearing behind her, eyes searching hers through the glass.

"You don't look tired," he said, his tone unmistakably low and seductive. He leaned in, lips close to her ear. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the glass; noticing how her body unconsciously shivered, her eyes darkening and her lips parting slightly. His fingertips grazed her arms, sensually stroking her skin; she was powerless to stop him, could only watch as her body responded instantly to his touch.

"Why are you doing this?" She'd meant it to be a question, but it came out a low moan of pleasure as his fingers slid up to her shoulders and brushed away the strands of hair covering the side of her neck.

"Because you want me to," he whispered against her skin.

She watched as the woman in the mirror tilted her head back toward him, her legs shaking. One of his hands slid down to her waist, pressing her back against him; one of his legs moved between hers to keep her from falling. She was afraid he could feel the dampness that had formed on the silk, if he couldn't already smell it.

"No," she whimpered, even as the reflection in the mirror betrayed her by slowly pressing herself down against his thigh.

He lifted his head from her neck, where he'd been placing the softest of kisses, and moved back to her ear. "Then tell me to stop."

She watched as the hand at her waist slid up over her ribcage; bit her lip as her body fought with her mind, craving to feel him touch her aching nipple. Instead he grazed the side of her breast and moved back down to her hip, the arrogant smirk on his face again when she let out a soft little whine of frustration.

"Just what I thought," he rasped. "You want me. It's written all over your face."

She wanted to deny it, but she couldn't; she would only be lying to herself. The image of her pressed against his thigh, her fingers reflexively twitching at the slightest caress of his hands, betrayed the lie. She wanted him _desperately_. She turned her head to look at him, to capture his lips with hers. He pulled away, confusing her with his actions. He nodded his head toward their reflections in the mirror.

"Look," he told her. She turned her head back toward the glass, gasping when she saw his hands moving to her shoulders to brush over the thin straps of her camisole. Slowly he slid them down, peeling the silk from her skin in with agonizing slowness. "Watch," he whispered against her neck, placing a soft open mouthed kiss there. He tugged the fabric down, revealing the swells of her breasts, her puckered nipples begging for his touch. His hands moved up again, fingers lightly tugging at the sensitive buds. He circled them with his thumbs, smiled in pleasure as she arched her back to push her breasts into his hands, needing more. She could hardly tear her eyes away from the erotic sight; Damon's hands sliding over her in an intimate caress, his expert touch bringing her so _close_. She felt her belly quiver as his fingers trailed downward, gliding over the damp fabric, massaging gently between her thighs. "Feel," he moaned softly in her ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and nipping it gently. His thumb found her sweet spot and he rubbed it in a circular motion that caused her legs to finally tremble so much that they gave out.

"Damon," she cried, pushing her hips against him in a desperate plea for more. He wrapped his arm around her hips, bracing her against him as his hand pushed the scrap of silk to the side and explored her further. She was helpless to watch as one finger touched her clitoris; teasing it until she was swollen and dripping wet with her need. She felt his hard length against the small of her back as he started to move his hips against her, rocking them as he stroked her. She could feel the pressure building inside of her and bit her lip to hold back the scream that wanted to rip from her throat.

"Don't fight it," he growled, pressing against her harder. One finger slid down, entering her slick passage and curving upward to stroke that spot inside her that had always seemed so elusive. She felt the tingles shooting up her spine, the tight coil inside her threatening to snap at any moment. She didn't want to feel it alone.

Her hand shook even as she slid it behind her to grip the waistband of his jeans, her fingers fumbling with the zipper. "Please," she moaned. "I need you inside me _now_." She barely recognized her own voice, so husky with lust for the man behind her. In an instant Damon had them both naked from the waist down, his erection pressing between her naked thighs, gliding his swollen head over her wet, hot skin before pushing into her slowly. Elena gasped at his size; threw her head back against his hard chest, still covered by his black tee shirt, and moaned in pleasure as he stretched her. His thrusts were shallow, causing her to shudder at the tingling shocks of pleasure shooting through her on each stroke. His fingers resumed their teasing flicks over her sensitive flesh, one hand coming up to squeeze her breast as he stroked her inside and out. She couldn't stop shaking, could hardly even gasp for air as he pleasured her in a way she'd only read about in the few trashy romance novels hidden under her bed. How was it possible that he could affect her so much?

"Watch, Elena," he whispered, redirecting her attention to the mirror. He thrust up with his hips, causing her to cry out in shock and pleasure as another jolt of sensation hit her. "This is _us_," he rasped, "You and me." He drew back until her inner walls were clenching around him, fighting to keep him inside her. He drove his hips forward again, his eyes seemingly staring into the reflection of hers. She clutched at his arm, gripping the tight bulge of muscle as his hand worked between her thighs with determination. "Let go," he said, never taking his eyes off her in the mirror. "I want to watch you come."

She couldn't hold on any longer, and with one last thrust of his hips she came undone around him. She writhed, clawing at his skin as the waves of pleasure washed over her, nearly drowned her with intense sensation. Her body shook, her heart pounded in her chest, and her vision was nothing but a blur of color and light. She was dimly aware of his lips against her forehead, pressing softly in a bittersweet kiss. His eyes met hers again in the glass and she noticed they were full of unshed tears. _"I love you, Elena," _his reflection whispered. Her heart skipped a beat, and she wondered why he wouldn't turn her around to face him. Why she couldn't seem to move her eyes away from the reflection. _"It's because I love you, that I can't be selfish with you,"_ his voice echoed in her mind, and she was sure the reflection of him in the glass was heartbroken. She wanted to hold him, to kiss him and let him know she loved him too. But she couldn't; she could do nothing but watch the broken man in the mirror as he whispered sadly, _"I don't deserve you." _She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he did deserve her. Damon deserved to be loved; and she _did_ love him. She wanted to roll her eyes when he mentioned his brother deserving her more, even though she didn't feel safe with him. _"I wish you didn't have to forget this, but you do."_ A single tear fell from his impossibly ice blue eyes, and suddenly she was alone.

Elena gasped, practically shooting up off the bed and clutching the vervain necklace in her fingers. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and she was suddenly aware of the damp spot on the sheets and the tell-tale wetness between her thighs that told her she'd just had an incredibly intense orgasm. She could still his touch on her skin, his words in her ear, and she groaned. Great, she'd had yet another erotic dream about Damon. Flinging the covers back, she made her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she waited for the water to reach a comfortable, but cool temperature she caught her reflection in the mirror and remembered flashes of her dream. There had been something he'd said near the end; something _important_. She searched the eyes staring back at her, trying to figure out what it had been. Sighing in frustration, she turned away from the glass and unclasped the necklace at her throat. Something had happened that night; she just wished she could remember what it was.


End file.
